


My Way

by masterwords



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Christmas Party, Fluff, Happy Aaron Hotchner, M/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:00:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterwords/pseuds/masterwords
Summary: The annual BAU Christmas Party has arrived, and as per usual, Hotch & Prentiss haven't done their shopping.  Dave Rossi has a little surprise planned.  Fluff ensues.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/David Rossi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	My Way

**Author's Note:**

> I humbly submit, on this the 1st day of December, 1 of 25 one shots - An Advent of Aaron Hotchner. Barely edited, quickly written, ill-conceived but hopefully worth reading. Today is fluffy because it’s snowy outside and my coffee is giving me all the warm fuzzies, but there will probably be more h/c and whump overall because that’s what I do. (Posted to tumblr as well.)

“Why are we here again?” Aaron asked, tugging his black knit cap down over his ears as he walked at a fast clip through the icy parking lot. It was mid-December, on a Saturday, and he and Emily were approaching a mall that likely was housing half of the population of the East Coat at that very moment. He could feel his feet slipping out from under him as he walked and found himself wishing he’d fall and hit his head and be rushed by ambulance away from this place.

“Because we have obligations,” she replied, opening the door for her friend quickly, watching him reluctantly enter the warm building. She knew this was his nightmare, and she was going to cling to that each time she remembered that this was also her nightmare. They began twisting to and fro to avoid bumping into the sea of people coming and going, finally making it into the atrium of the over sized, overcrowded mall.

“I reject the commercial...” he began, but she punched him square between the shoulder blades before he could finish his sentence. He'd like to think it was playful, but she punched hard. 

“This is our own fault. We agreed to Secret Santa and we left it until the last minute.”

“Haven't you ever heard of a gift card?” he asked, plopping down on a bench to take his gloves and hat off now, folding them neatly and tucking them into his coat pocket. She sat beside him and stared at him incredulously, searching his features for the nature of his question. 

“You're not serious? Boy, if I handed Penelope Garcia a gift card at the party that she organized...I'd never show my face at work again.”

“Right. Gift card...bad. Is cash bad, too?” She didn’t even dignify that with an answer, just an eye roll. He was terrible at this. It was hard enough playing Santa for Jack through the years and Jack was a child who was easy to buy for, but every year he was bullied into Secret Santa with the team and every year he bought a gift on the day of the party. It was a miserable routine, one worth breaking, but he just couldn't seem to manage it. Christmas just wasn’t high on his list of priorities, love these people as he may. Thus, here he was, seated on a bench in a mall two hours before he was supposed to be at a party at Rossi's, expected to have purchased a gift for one Penelope Garcia. 

“Where do we start?” he asked, sighing. Emily looked around, wondering how in the world she was suddenly qualified to do any of this, let alone lead this expedition – she didn't even have a child to buy for, Christmas gifts were foreign territory entirely. She and Sergio didn't do gifts. 

“I got us this far,” she muttered, eyes darting around furiously trying to find a store they could buy gifts in – one and done. It was lucky for them that they were buying for Garcia and Reid, this shouldn't be that difficult, and yet here they were paralyzed on a bench. Aaron rolled his eyes and forced himself to stand up, yanking her jacket to force her to do the same. He was driven by nothing more than the notion that they were pushing it on time and they could absolutely not be late to this party or this nightmare would all be for naught, they’d be in the dog house. Slowly, reluctantly, they entered the sea of people walking up and down the corridor, peering into each store as they passed until they found one that would give them what they needed. If they were being honest, they were both desperately hoping for something to force an end to this – a madman with a gun to neutralize, a bomb threat to force them back out those doors, either one of them suddenly having a medical emergency...anything chaotic and disruptive would do. Then they'd show up to the party with a wild story and everyone would just be so glad they were ok that no one would mind that they didn't have gifts. 

No such luck. It took them over an hour to find what they needed, after which Emily dropped Aaron back off at his house and rushed home to get ready for the party. They wouldn't tell a soul what they'd done, this secret they took to the grave...until next year when they repeated the routine without learning a thing. 

Dave's house was already buzzing when Aaron showed up – somehow Emily had even beaten him. She gave him an awkward look, noting that he was still wearing most of the same clothes he'd been wearing at the mall, he'd just changed from his t shirt into a soft black wool sweater, the kind that made most people itchy just looking at it but was somehow just the most Hotch thing she could think of. It screamed stay away, and also hug me (at your own risk) at the same time. He just shrugged and held up his gift as his only explanation and she struggled not to burst out into laughter at the sight of his wrapping job – there it was. Their fearless leader who could do the hardest things a human could ever be asked to do without even flinching was incapable of wrapping a Christmas gift nicely. The thing looked like it was more tape than wrapping paper and he had two Batman band-aids on his fingers, the results of trying to curl the ribbon using scissors. 

“Aaron,” Dave called, pulling his partner in for a hug. He rubbed Aaron's back softly, fingertips trailing along his spine with a smile. “Nice of you to show up.”

Aaron shook his head and smiled, returning the hug a little stiffly. “I'm not late,” was his only retort. Dave laughed. 

“Barely. Come in, come in!”

The party had already begun, everyone was at least a glass of wine in by the time Aaron even had a glass in hand, but he didn't mind that. He preferred it that way. Everyone was chatting, telling stories about their families so far this year and the madness that was about to ensue as Christmas approached, and Aaron hung around the outskirts of the group just listening to it all. He didn't have anything to add, but he loved to hear it all. At the first lull in conversation, Garcia announced that they should exchange gifts and began asking people to find their Secret Santa. Aaron, reluctantly, grabbed his gift from the counter and handed it apologetically to Garcia. 

“Haley always wrapped the gifts...” he muttered, shrugging. She blushed, tearing up at the sight of the gift – she couldn't believe that Hotch was her Secret Santa, or really that he was anyone’s. The chaos of the wrapping job seemed entirely at odds with who he was as a person and she felt strangely honored by it. With trembling fingers she tried to unwrap it, tugging at all the tape awkwardly and chuckling to herself, unable to make eye contact with him while she did it. 

“You could have just told me Jack wrapped it...” she mumbled, and Aaron rolled his eyes. 

“I should have asked him to, he would have done better.”

“Scissors, I need scissors,” she mumbled to herself. Just as she was about to go searching for some scissors or a knife to help get through the tape, she found a spot to pull from and finally broke in. Aaron's humiliation was complete. Garcia crumpled the paper in her hands and peered at the gift with shining eyes – an oversize, neon pink coffee mug with a wishing troll toy inside and a variety box of teas that he knew nothing about but Emily had assured him were good. She bounced on her heels at the sight of the troll and wrapped him in a hug, pinning his arms at his sides. 

“Oh sir! It's perfect!” she exclaimed “Thank you!”

He just nodded and smiled, unable to move. “You're welcome. Merry Christmas, Penelope.”

To his right, Emily slid up like a snake in the grass and cleared her throat, handing him a small red envelope. “Your gift...” she whispered, winking and sliding away again just like she’d come. He looked around the room confused for a moment and ripped into the tiny red envelope. In Dave's handwriting, it simply read “Agent Rossi, in the parlor, with the candlestick.” Garcia glanced at it, and then at Emily wildly, backing away from him slowly. Aaron suddenly felt like a deer in headlights, like all eyes were on him and he was living his second nightmare of the day. He quickly excused himself from the kitchen and shuffled down the long hallway. As he turned the corner and entered the parlor, he noted that the lights were low and there was, in fact, a candle burning – Aaron felt his stomach lurch like he was going to be sick, he hated being put on the spot. He looked behind him to make sure no one had followed before entering and seeing Dave seated on the leather sofa, a small box on his lap. 

“Dave,” Aaron said softly, entering the room timidly. “What is this?” Dave smiled and stood up, offering the box to his partner with a devilish twinkle in his eye. Aaron looked at him suspiciously and popped the box open, finding a small silver key inside. He grabbed the key and held it in his hand, eyeing Dave now questioningly. 

“You and Jack can come and go as you please,” Dave replied to the look on Aaron's face. “Casa mia, casa tua.”

Aaron laughed. “You don't have a house, you have a mansion,” he said with a wink, wrapping Dave in a tight hug. “Thank you.” The wool sweater brushed against Dave's cheek and he wished Aaron wore more cashmere instead but this was the man he'd chosen, and some things just came with the territory. Softly, Dave reached up and held Aaron's face in his hands, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth before letting him go, promising more of that later if Aaron wanted to spend the night. Aaron slid the key into his wallet for safekeeping, feeling overwhelmed by the magnitude of the gift that fell square inside of the dollar limit but so far outside the social etiquette of office gift giving that he didn't know how to process it, let alone tell anyone else what he'd been given if they asked. He supposed Dave had already taken care of that anyway, he always did. For all his faults, Dave never left Aaron vulnerable if he could help it. 

“So, were you really my Secret Santa?” Aaron asked as the two men walked slowly back down the hallway, shoulder to shoulder. Dave scoffed for a moment, faking offense at such a question, which was all the answer Aaron needed. 

“I paid Emily to trade with me,” Dave said finally, shaking his head. “She drives a hard bargain. You wouldn't believe what that key actually cost me in the end.”

“That isn't how Secret Santa is supposed to work, there are rules to these things...”

“I'm Italian, I make my own rules. Go pour yourself another glass of wine, Aaron. It's a party.”


End file.
